


More Questions Than Answers

by digthewriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Happy Ending, Internal angst, M/M, hfn, mention of infidelity, minimal dialogue, thoughts, vague infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-14 19:56:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20606432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/pseuds/digthewriter
Summary: It starts as casual sex. By the time Charlie realises he's fallen hard, Neville has somehow moved on.





	More Questions Than Answers

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning(s)/Contains:** Casual sex. Angst. Mention of infidelity of sorts. Pining. Heartbreak. HFN.  
**Author's Note:** Thanks to my friend MG for looking this over for me. Dear prompter, I hope you're not totally horrified at all the angst in this fic. I really do not know why the story went the way it did — but I was too late to change gears. LOL. All my thanks to the fest mod for their generous extensions and understanding.  
**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

** ONE **

* * *

Neville and Charlie have the same room at the Burrow. It's mainly because after the war, Neville visits the Weasleys quite often. Charlie on the other hand stops by when he can. They are never there at the same time, so they share a room without really being in the other's way.

It all changes when George and Angelina announce their engagement and everyone's invited over to celebrate.

It shouldn't be a big deal. The bed is big enough and Charlie has made sure they have enough blankets. Sharing a bed with one of his brother's friends isn't a big deal. It isn't like he hasn't shared a bed with someone before.

Trouble starts when Charlie gets a good look at Neville.

He hasn't seen the boy—_is he really a boy still?_—in a few years. He knows of him. He's heard wonderful things about him. How he leaves the room immaculate the next day. How he's kind, and courteous, and just a bit too shy for his own good.

In conclusion, before laying his eyes on Neville, Charlie had believed he could never be attracted to him.

Except, he's horrifyingly wrong.

Neville is shy. But he isn't shy about making eye-contact with Charlie. He isn't shy about coming out of the shower in a towel and rummaging through his suitcase as if Charlie isn't in the room. He's shy about asking for a second serving. He's shy about asking Charlie's dad to make his drink just a bit weaker.

He's polite.  
With Charlie, his stare is anything but.

Charlie feels like he could have let it go—his attraction to this young man who is Ron's age—if he wasn't watching Charlie's every move. If his cheeks didn't go pink when Charlie gulped his drink. If his foot wasn't pressed against Charlie's under the table.

The entire party has been torturous, he thinks. He's never had this much pent up frustration before because he hasn't experienced this attraction at his parents' home. Usually, he would grab the man by the elbow and take him to a dark or secluded corner. If they couldn't do anything more than kiss or rub up against each other, Charlie would make plans to meet with them later—but now? Charlie can't seem to get a word in edgewise, and everyone else is toasting to the happy couple.

Neville is drawing small circles against the rim of his margarita glass and then sucking the salt off his fingers.

The celebration goes well into the night until there's only a handful of George and Angelina's friends and co-workers are left. His parents have gone off to bed, and Charlie watches as Neville, along with Ron and the rest of _their_ friends make their way to the garden. The topic changes to Fred, and Charlie struggles to find a quiet window to when he can make an excuse and leave the room.

It has been an emotional day.

It has been a very confusing and arduous day, as well. The last thing Charlie thinks he can manage is reminiscing about his late brother. His family and friends lost a lot, and he knows right now, George needs his friends more than he needs his distant brother. They have shared their grief and Charlie isn't going to react well to sharing it with these strangers in the room. They aren't _his_ friends.

*

Neville tip toes into the room extremely quietly, and if Charlie were actually sleeping, he wouldn't have noticed Neville's presence at all. He waits patiently until Neville undresses and dresses himself in the dark. He walks around the bed and then slides under the cover with such ease, Charlie has to wonder if he hasn't spelled a quiescence like state around him.

They are both silent and still for a few minutes. Charlie thinks twice then he reaches out and brushes his foot against Neville's leg. Neville releases a small startled gasp. Charlie waits. It takes another minute—Neville's leg brushes itself against Charlie's foot again.

Their legs tangle first and then Charlie's hands take over. He's pressing Neville against the bed with Neville's mouth hot against Charlie's skin. He's sucking on the skin when Charlie realises they both went to bed shirtless and in nothing but silk pyjamas bottoms, and the fabric is so thin, Neville's cock is pressing against Charlie's leg as if there is no barrier.

It's dark, and they're at each other like animals, but still quiet enough and fully aware there are other people in rooms all around them. It's hot, and breath-taking, and over too fast. But Charlie knows, he and Neville are staying one more night.

There's also the morning.

However, when he wakes up, Charlie is alone.

He makes his way down the stairs after a quick shower to a house full of even more people, and the dining table full of breakfast goodies. There isn't an actual plan for the day but everyone is intending on staying, talking, or playing games.

Charlie looks around the room to see if they can tell anything. Do they notice the shift in the room or is it just him? Neville isn't looking at him. He looks half distracted when Ginny pulls him into an argument she's having with Ron.

He decides he's not going to dwell on it, and turns his attention towards helping his mother. Soon, he's pulled away in his own conversations about dragons and his work.

*

He doesn't like being ignored.

It isn't like Neville owes him anything. Heck, he hasn't seen the man in years but they shared something last night. They hadn't talked much but Charlie had hoped to change that in the morning. Was it just a one-time thing? He doesn't care much about it, either way, he decides.

Having a one-off isn't something new to Charlie, and being blown off or dismissing the other person, isn't a new concept either. Maybe he expected it to be different because the other man is a lot younger. Deciding it's not even worth it, Charlie let's it go.

If Neville wants him tonight, he knows where Charlie will be.

He's in the shower when Neville joins him. He doesn't say much as he pulls the curtain back, steps in and then they're enclosed together under the hot spray.

Charlie tugs on Neville's dirty blond locks overgrown but endearing nonetheless. Neville hisses but doesn't resist until Charlie pushes him down on his knees. He's quick to take direction, and a fast learner. He's so desperate for it—it nearly unnerves Charlie.

This is different than a normal one-off. There is a distinction between meeting a man to just get off, and then being with someone who makes you question everything. Is he doing this okay? Is his lover satisfied? Will he want more? These are questions Charlie finds himself asking. This isn't just about fucking Neville's mouth—this is about wishing Neville would want to do it again. 

Charlie's fingers stay in Neville's hair as Neville takes him in all the way. The hot water continues to pour over them. Neville's hands press against Charlie's balls and he strokes them gently as he moans around Charlie's cock. His other hand is moving frantically on his own erection and Charlie wants to tell him to stop; he wants to take care of it for Neville, but Neville's talented tongue has left him speechless.

When it's over, Charlie realises Neville came before him. He quickly pulls Neville up to his feet and pushes him against the tiled wall. He kisses Neville with a force he didn't know he possessed and tastes himself. Unsure of how it's even possible, Charlie's cock twitches with interest again.

Neville seems to know what he wants but he allows Charlie to take the charge. He doesn't hold back, and doesn't push back—but somehow he's managed to make Charlie doubt his every move. 

Focusing on the actual task at hand, they manage to take a shower. Charlie washes Neville's back, his hands roaming up and down his body—fingers sliding in-between his arse-cheeks. Neville rests back against Charlie's chest as Charlie kisses his neck.

It's almost sweet. This _aftermath_ of what they've done. Twice now. Charlie wonders how he can think of Neville as a stranger in his arms, and yet, find him to be so familiar.

His body isn't flawless. Just like Charlie, there are scars that tell a story. He has dragon burns, and scratch marks, and bruises which just never really went away. He wonders what interesting plants Neville comes across or does he do something else for the scars?

He wants to ask, but he doesn't. Just like how Charlie doesn't share his own stories, he never expects another to do the same.

*

They meet again.

This time, it's someone else's engagement party and Charlie has no idea who they are. But Ron and Ginny drag him to the pub. He does know one thing; he knows if siblings are going to be there—then so is Neville.

It doesn't take long for Charlie to do a crude gesture with the beer bottle when no one is looking and find Neville staring right at him. He nods towards the loo and walks away, expecting Neville to follow him.

He should have owled, but he didn't. He should have maybe tried to start some sort of a friendship. It isn't like Neville isn't travelling in his neck of the woods for a rare herb here and there. His actions are almost all followed in the gossip magazines along with Ron, Ginny, Harry, and now even, Malfoy.

Neville is on his knees with Charlie’s trousers around his ankles before he can even say _hello_.  
_Yes, lovely to see you, as well, mate._  
_Say, should I tell you I think about you all the time?_

And then Charlie is coming in Neville's mouth and this time, Neville doesn't get himself off.

When he's face to face with Charlie, Neville kisses him. It's not unexpected, but surprising too. Charlie always initiated the kissing—and with Neville taking charge, there's definitely some wobbly knee action happening.

Charlie buries his face in Neville's neck and breathes in his scent. It's a mixture of things. Warm breakfast with black coffee but also the exhaustion of the day, paired with the smell of sex. Charlie wants to groan into his skin, bite Neville, and leave a mark—but he knows there are people around them. They might have placed a faint privacy charm but the things he wants to do to Neville would break through the barriers.

He pulls on Neville's hair, and then plants a deep kiss on Neville's lips, as his free hand searches for the belt, the buttons, and the zipper of Neville's jeans and frees his cock. They kiss, and Neville moans into his mouth, and Charlie bites down on his lower lip—all the while giving Neville's cock the undivided attention from his other part of the brain.

He's always been good at multitasking. He trains dragons, thank you very much.

*

About three months later, Charlie sends his first owl.

There has been no communication at all. Whenever Charlie makes an excuse to go to the Burrow, he finds it empty except for his parents. Everyone is out somewhere. All the fucking time. And no, his siblings don't tell him where they travel to or what their plans are because he's not _friends_ with them.

He'd been invited in the past several times, but he'd always politely declined. Eventually, the invitations stopped coming. Of course at that time, Charlie wasn't fucking Neville. He can't help but wonder if Neville fucks anyone on these little trips.

It'd be a lie if Charlie says he doesn't go out on the pull. In-between his two encounters, Charlie has taken an occasional man home, but they all fell short of what he shared with Neville. Which is, obviously, ridiculous.

So what if Neville's kisses are sweeter? His touch feels divine. And what if, every time he comes across a man with shaggy, dirty blond hair, all he wants to do is push him into the mattress and fuck the living daylights out of him? And why does it even matter whenever Charlie closes his eyes, he feels warm, and remembers the night after the shower where Neville rode him long and hard? That in the morning, Neville had subtle bruises on his hips and thighs from where Charlie had grabbed him?

Neville is still young and still innocent enough to find himself a good man. A man unlike Charlie.

Still, he sends that owl. An hour later, he gets his reply.

They meet at the pub around the corner from Neville's greenhouse. Shortly after, they're inside Neville's greenhouse, naked and fucking on top of a skin soothing herbal plant Charlie is supposed to look up later. _It's a great remedy for healing dragon burn marks_.

*

It continues as such for two years.

At engagement parties, weddings, birthday parties, and at the pub—it's never more or less. It's just what it is, Charlie thinks. They don't talk about it. They don't make plans.

There are no dates.

Except, to Charlie, it's everything. He figures if Neville wants more—if he wants to be _out_ all he has to do is ask Charlie. He never does.

Charlie thinks there's plenty of time for talk, of course. He's only thirty five now, and Neville, at the same age as Ron, has his whole life ahead of him. They will talk. They will. He's certain of it.

However, the talking isn't initiated and their encounters are phasing out.

There is something about the situation Charlie can't grasp. It reminds him of how when he can't figure out what a dragon wants; he's breathing fire on everything, melting everything in his sight, angry but not allowing anyone in. Charlie sees fire in Neville's eyes—and then he also sees it dwindle away. Everything is burnt but no resolution has been made.

Charlie is chasing after a dragon who is angry but doesn't tell him why. 

There are more parties, but Neville doesn't pay much attention to Charlie. He arrives late and leaves early. Most of the evenings, he talks with Harry or Luna. They ask him about how _someone_ is doing and he blushes and shrugs.

Funny how Charlie never manages to catch the name.

*

He finds the name on the wedding invitation left opened on Ginny's desk drawer.

_Anthony Goldstein. _

Ginny fills him on the details which are mostly a blur to Charlie—and he's forgotten them all already. Does it even matter? It isn't like they had anything.

What do you even call _having_ someone for two years and then they go up and marry someone else? Someone Charlie's met in passing. Someone Charlie has seen at some of the pubs, the parties, the weddings—it makes him sick to his stomach.

But should it?

They never defined anything. Charlie had thought he had all the time in the world. Things do have a way of crashing down all at once—he hadn't meant for his life to become a house of cards.

It's the announcement in the _Prophet_ which does it for him. He packs in haste as he decides to join his mates to a trip to Vietnam. He did have holiday time accrued and there's no time like the present. Right on schedule to forget a man who he's been fucking for two years and who is getting married in four months.

As he makes his way to the Portkey, the sharp pain that was in his stomach travels slowly to his heart. Why does depression always feel like hunger? A starvation state food and drink can't easily fix. His mates are happy, albeit surprised to see him. Initially, he had made a vague excuse about a romantic entanglement, and now if they see things have gone awry, they don't ask him about it.

While they wait for the Portkey to activate, two of them spend their time teaching Charlie the translation spells for Vietnamese; he speaks _Dragon_ better anyway. He doesn't plan on meeting or interacting with anyone outside his group. If he focuses on his work, he'll be busy enough with his activities with the dragons. It's important to be centred on the task at hand—less chance to get burned.

*

* * *

** TWO **

* * *

*

Four months have passed and it's time for Charlie to hang up his golden thread silk gloves and say tạm biệt. Surprisingly, he can order groceries and take out from the market with ease, though he's not entirely certain about his accent. He's overstayed his welcome, he knows.

All his friends have slowly returned home and even though Charlie never really sent an owl back directly—he sent a letter or two to anyone returning to London or Western Europe in general. He didn't tell his family where he was. Of course, they had the general idea, but not his exact address.

He didn't want to accidentally receive an invitation or a copy of the _Prophet_ in the mail. The time away hasn't much made Neville a distant memory. Sure, there were nights Charlie tried really hard to forget but in the morning, feeling a new body next to his made him extremely aware of whom he wasn't with.

Calling himself pathetic is an understatement, so he doesn't.

His hair and beard are so long, he hardly recognises himself in the mirror. This time, when he packs, he takes his time. Carefully wrapping the gifts for his family, and the treats for his dragons back home. He wonders if they'll still remember him.

He wonders if the con rồng will ever forget him.

_Did Neville forget him_?

He doesn't know at what point had he become so wretched. He can't even remember the point where he'd fallen in love. There was always something there from day one. There were Neville's piercing eyes following him around the room. The way his touch all but gave life to Charlie's existence. He had been touched before but when Neville had touched him, it was electrifying.

In the past few months when Charlie woke from a bad dream, he remembered his dreams when he was with Neville. Neville would touch him once, and his heart would stop racing, and the tension in his shoulders would relax. In Sa Pa when he wakes, there's no comfort. No touch. There's the realisation that as Charlie packs, somewhere out there, Neville is saying his vows to another man.

Is today the day he's getting married? Or was it yesterday? Last week? Or tomorrow? Charlie doesn't know. He never bothered to find out the date or if he'd read it, he's clearly shunned it from his memory. It's better this way.

It's better to not know.

He knows the news of him being back in Romania will only reach his family when he'll allow it. He's always treasured his privacy and his siblings know better than to go snooping around his living quarters.

*

The familiar scent of his city, the green mountains around him, and the food being grilled and sold on the side streets hits Charlie all at once. His stomach churns and he wonders, again, if it's hunger or depression. Chuckling to himself, he makes his way to his empty flat, hoping it's still his.

He had sent in the monthly rent to the landlady but since he received no confirmation; he didn't know if the Ministry ever delivered the payments on time. The returned funds would be delivered to his parents' and since Charlie barely kept in touch with them, he had no idea if his items were also collected and shipped.

The last thing he expected when arriving at his flat was to see Neville Longbottom in an unbuttoned tuxedo shirt, his jacket in his hand, and him sitting against his front door.

Charlie stops in his tracks and he knows it's too late because Neville has seen him. He's standing up straight and looking at Charlie expectantly. _Why is he here?_ Is the obvious first question.

Was the wedding today?  
Has he been waiting for hours or _days_?  
Did he run away?

As Charlie approaches his door, waves his wand to unlock and put it open, Neville only stands quiet. As the door is pushed in, Charlie looks at Neville and raises an eyebrow. He can't trust his voice right now and he doesn't even know what he'd say. Neville is looking him up and down, taking in the bun Charlie has tied his long hair in, and the beard that doesn't like to stay tamed.

He continues to give Neville a questioning look and as Neville walks in and then turns around to gaze at Charlie, Charlie's eyes fall on Neville's left hand. The gold band on Neville's ring finger.

_He's married._

Charlie doesn't know when the wedding was — if it was today or yesterday or last week — but Neville had gone through with it. No doubt about it.

As Neville hand reaches for Charlie, Charlie remembers one thing, and one thing only. Dragons can smell fear. Dragons can see right through you. And Charlie is not afraid to go head-on with the worst of them.

He tames his feelings, the agitation, the doubt, the _heartbreak_, and grabs Neville's hand. He gives a good look to Neville's wedding band, scoffs, and then tosses his hand away. He doesn't have a fuck to give right now. He has nothing to do or say or whatever else with Neville. Neville is _married_ to another man.

It does not matter if he was waiting for Charlie to come home. Neville isn't Charlie's home.

He starts to walk away when a whimper stops him. Is it just a sob? Or his name? He doesn't want to but turns to look and Neville is on his knees, head down, defeated. Charlie involuntarily takes a step closer and Neville's arms wrap about Charlie's waist and then the man is sobbing. He's letting it all out; the tears are hot and they burn through Charlie's trousers and trickle down his thigh.

It goes on for ages.

Finally, Charlie sighs and pulls Neville up to his feet. Neville's face is buried in Charlie's neck and this could just be how it could be. But, Charlie knows it can't. It can't be this simple. But, this isn't what he's going to be thinking about. He all but picks Neville up and carries him to the bathroom. With a mumbled spell and wandless magic, the tub is starting to fill with hot water.

He places Neville gently on the floor and begins undressing him. When it becomes more complicated than he'd ventured—it wasn't like so in the past—he turns to magic again. When the water is comfortable and bubbly, he gently places Neville inside it. Picking him up and hauling him around had never been a problem for Charlie.

He assures a bath would do him good. Neville needs to calm down and think things through. Charlie is going to settle in and make tea. But Neville doesn't let go of him. He holds onto Charlie's hand for dear life and Charlie doesn't know what to do.

Torn between comforting an old lover, being angry at him and wanting to kick him out of his house, and genuinely worrying about Neville as a person—Charlie is at a loss. He spells his clothes away and gets in the bath with Neville.

It isn't sexual.

Charlie is far from being turned on. For the past four months he's been broken, and a naked Neville in the bath with him isn't going to fix anything. It isn't going to _fix_ him. 

He holds Neville for as long as he can, and when he can feel Neville drifting, and the water starting to get cool, he gets out of the tub. He quickly wraps a towel around his waist, leaving a clean one behind for Neville and makes his way out of the bathroom.

A clean pair of cotton trousers and a t-shirt are waiting for Neville on Charlie's bed while Charlie finally, does, make them tea. Neville enters the kitchen slow and tentative as if he's afraid Charlie will immediately kick him out. Charlie isn't entirely against the idea. He has no fucking clue why Neville is even here.

Of course, the apologies don't take long to pour out.

_I wasn't ready_.

Ready for what? Charlie has to wonder. Not ready to get married? Not ready to let Charlie go? Not ready to have two affairs and then freak the fuck out about both of them?

All things considered, the point of the matter is…Neville needs a place to hide. No one will come looking for him here. Because what is one to do after getting married, and then escaping your own wedding reception?

*

They sleep in the same bed. Charlie's sofa isn't comfortable, and his flat is too small to be able to do anything else. At a moment's notice, his Muggle friends or landlady like to stop by so he doesn't have the luxury to magic things around.

His bed is big enough for them to have their separate corners and blankets. Charlie isn't fucking around, and he isn't about to give in and show his hurt. He has made one thing clear. Whatever there was between them is over.

It has been over.

Neville seems to understand and has the audacity to look hurt by it. Charlie wants to roll his eyes and show the annoyed look to Neville but he thinks better of it. Instead, he makes dinner, and leaves some out for Neville.

They also aren't going to dine together.

*

Charlie returns to the dragon sanctuary immediately. He doesn't announce his ins and outs to Neville. Neville has a key to his flat and every night when Charlie comes home, he finds Neville there.

He doesn't know exactly what the man does in his flat all day. Doesn't he still technically have a job? Did he resign? Was it formal or falling off the face of the earth is message enough?

Still, there are small things Charlie notices. Neville has tidied up his place significantly. It _was_ abandoned for four months. Things are cleaner, but they always remain in their exact place.

What is he? Charlie's maid service?

He doesn't tell him to stop. If he's looking for validation—he's not going to get it from Charlie. 

There are times, as if trying to prove a point to himself or Neville, Charlie stays out all night. He stays at his friends' flat, gets drunk, and passes out on the sofa. Sometimes, he'll even take a shower there and then go straight back to work.

Neville doesn't ask him anything.

They don't talk about anything.

Neville is just _there_.

He does, Charlie eventually realises, go grocery shopping. Snacks are always ready if Charlie ever gets hungry or comes home drunk and scrounges around in his kitchen for food. And sometimes, much to Charlie's delight, Neville's left him a full-cooked meal under a heating charm.

What is he? His wife?

Did he get married so he could do this for Goldstein? And then what? Thought about doing it for Charlie instead?

Charlie has so many questions. They're always on the tip of his tongue but instead of ever giving his inquiries a voice, he takes drink instead. He isn't entirely sure if his drinking has increased since before Vietnam but his mates seem to think so. They constantly comment on it.

*

A month passes and Charlie is visiting with his parents when Neville is the topic of conversation. Evidently, he's sent owls but provided no real answers. _He doesn't want to be contacted. He needs time and space to think_.

Charlie doesn't provide any additional information. It's not his place.

Even though Neville lives in his flat. Sleeps in his bed. Cooks meals in his kitchen.

It's stupid but Charlie is starting to look forward to going home. By now, they're cordial at best. When Charlie lived _alone_, he was often quiet at home. There was no one to have conversations with and after he'd been sleeping with Neville, he'd stopped bringing dates over.

Charlie's resolve started to melt when one evening, he arrives home earlier than he was probably expected and finds Neville sitting on the floor in a corner of the kitchen, crying. He's evidently burned the bread. But Charlie knows the tears are more for the mishap. He sits down next to Neville and pulls him in for an embrace.

Neville stays there a while. His face buried in Charlie's neck, and Charlie closes his eyes. He's so close. He's so close to forgiving Neville. He's so close to start a conversation. He's so close to wanting him, and ready to take him back.

But he doesn't.

When Neville straightens up to look at Charlie, Charlie immediately gets up and heads for a shower. He locks the door behind him to make sure Neville doesn't get any wrong ideas.

The day after, it's routine again. But, once a week, there are shared meals. Charlie doesn't get drunk with his friends that much anymore, and comes _home_ at a decent hour.

At night, he wishes for Neville to scoot a little closer; for their feet or arm to brush. Those nights, Charlie takes care of his business in the shower, and drowns himself in a sleep draught before he does anything foolish.

*

Nightmares are still complex and prevalent. Especially for Neville. Most of the times, Charlie pretends to sleep through as Neville wakes himself up, calms himself down, and returns to slumber.

Tonight, it's different.

He's violently shaking and Charlie can't pretend. He can't pretend he doesn't give a shit. He holds Neville, tries to wake him up, and he soothes him. Neville's holding onto him for dear life. They're pressed together, hips nearly grinding, when Charlie curses himself for getting hard at the wrong time. But, he's not the only one. The heat between them is only separated by the thin cotton trousers they're both wearing.

This time, when Neville's face touches Charlie's skin, his lips linger. Charlie allows it. How long would he be able to deny himself this? He shouldn't have let this continue. He shouldn't have allowed Neville to stay for this long, but now? He can't help but allow Neville to take from him.

Charlie is ready to give again.  
Foolish that he is.

His fingers thread through Neville's hair, and Neville whimpers when Charlie pulls his head back to kiss him. This shouldn't feel satisfying, but it does. Neville isn't Charlie's home. But he is.

The way Neville kisses him back is nothing short of desperate. He's taking in everything Charlie is giving him but he's also holding back. Charlie has to wonder if he's worried. If Neville asks for more, would it break the spell? Charlie wonders the same thing. Should he stop? Could he?

Their clothes are off in frenzy and Neville's on his hands and knees; Charlie spits on his hand to coat his cock and then pulls Neville on it. He's sat up with Neville pressed back against his chest and they move together. Neville sucks on Charlie's fingers; with his one hand at the back of Charlie's neck he pulls Charlie close and his other is against Charlie's thigh, urging him to go faster.

It's different.

The desire is there— it's almost as if that feeling never really went away but there's also longing. There's hurt. Charlie wants to fuck the hurt out. He knows it's not how it works. Still, this isn't more than what it is. His body aches for Neville's and he's finally acting on it because maybe he's over it. He doesn't know why Neville is still there. Still living with him. Maybe if Charlie fucks him once, he'll leave.

This is what he's been afraid of. Finally, it's happened.

When he wakes up the next day, Neville is still there. He's made Charlie breakfast but they don't eat together. He's in the bath for a long time and Charlie thinks it's better to just go to work and not talk about it.

Maybe it was a one-off. Maybe when he'll come home tonight, Neville would be gone.

*

Neville stays on.

The next night, they sleep like nothing's changed. They still don't talk about _it_.

A few nights later, Neville does edge himself closer. Charlie questions if he's expressed his thoughts out loud or if Neville can read this mind. They go at it again. The night after, there's not even a pretence. Charlie comes to the bedroom after the shower in a towel, and with one look at him, Neville begins to undress.

There's a part of him that's telling him to stop. There's a part of him that's telling him to spend more than five minutes in the room with Neville when they're not fucking. But that part is also silenced when Neville's eyes are on him. The desire in Neville's eyes matches the one inside Charlie's belly. The fire's ignited and you can't fight fire with fire, still, Charlie is looking forward to be burned again. If and when it does happen again, now, he knows it's his doing.

_Please don't leave me again_. The words are on the edge of his tongue but they are undeclared. Unheard. He imagines Neville is speaking back to him. _I don't want to leave._

Charlie goes back to the Burrow. He still doesn't tell anyone Neville's living with him. He isn't completely surprised to hear about how his demeanour has changed. He looks happy. _Maybe going on holiday to Vietnam was good after all_.

Yeah.  
If they only knew.

*

It starts small.

A kiss on the cheek when he wakes up in the morning. Then, kisses in the kitchen, and before and after work. Sex on the sofa in front of the telly.

Declarations of _I want you right now_ and _I've missed you_. And Charlie is _living_ with Neville. He takes him to his friends' parties. He puts his arm around Neville's shoulder and kisses him in public.

He doesn't tell anyone who Neville really is. They wear a glamour when out in a more public place. And this is _more_.

Neville tells him he wants to mail the Goldstein family wedding band back to Anthony but he's afraid. He's afraid of facing him. He's afraid of confessing how he's been lying to him for so long.

Charlie nods. He wants to be selfish. He wants to remain selfish but he knows they both have to face the real world eventually. Neville can't keep living with him in secret. He's going to grow tired of it. He has to go and see his gran, and go back to his job, and start living a life.

If he keeps living there, he'll get bored. Maybe, even start resenting Charlie. He should be doing so much more with his life. He's incredibly smart and should do more than just gardening as a hobby behind Charlie's flat.

*

Once again, the universe seems to have it in for Charlie.

The Ministry drops the letter off via the Floo. It's addressed to Neville. After not being able to find him for months, the Department of Marriage and Civil Partnerships magically traced Neville's whereabouts to deliver the message.

He's required to sign the annulment documents. _Within one week and return all property, jewellery, and/or other assets to the claimant (Anthony J. Goldstein) or pay the fine of five hundred Galleons—which does not include compensation to the petitioner for breach of promise contract and solicitor's cost for the annulment._

Charlie has to admit, he's mildly impressed by his former competition. The man did his waiting, and now he's lodged legal complaints to claim what's his. He wants to smile and tell Neville he actually might have respect for Goldstein, but the look on Neville's face stops him short.

Is he regretting it? All the things he said to Charlie—were they just in the heat of the moment? This _is_ final. Declaring the marriage null.

Could Charlie be stupid enough to misunderstand everything again?

_Right_. This is a decision Neville has to make on his own. He needs to return and set things right in his own way. At least, this time, Charlie had seen it coming. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop, and it's just about to.

He makes his way to his bedroom, ready to close the door behind him. Ready to be alone.

"No." Neville pulls on his elbow and shakes his head. "I need to do the right thing." He's looking at Charlie, tears threatening to gush. One look at Neville, and Charlie thinks he can tell what he's going to do. Physically, at least.

"Be brave," replies Charlie. "Speak the truth."

Neville smiles and pulls him closer. "I'm in love with you, Charlie. I have been for ages. I do need to be brave. But I can't be anything without you."

*

Neville returns the legal documents to the DMCP immediately. He writes a formal letter of resignation to his job—declaring he won't be returning from his sabbatical. And finally, he owls Anthony. Asking to meet.

Charlie takes Neville to the Burrow with him a week later and explains everything to his family. They aren't glad about it: the news that'd spread everywhere. The gossip it would create. But, they are also happy for Charlie. For _them_.

_Neville's always been such a nice boy. Maybe he got lost along the way but he found his way to their family._

Charlie wants to roll his eyes but he doesn't. He knows it can't be this easy because his parents are one thing; his siblings are another.

When they return home, Neville owls job applications to all the locations in Romania looking for a caretaker of magical plans. Turns out, when Charlie was at work, Neville was searching for jobs around Eastern Europe.

"On the off chance I'd ever call this place home." 

Another secret. Still, not a bad one. Neville wanted to be with Charlie. He'd wanted to be with Charlie all along.

And they were both stupid enough to let the other go. Ready to let the other go over and over again.

Charlie decides if they are going to survive this. If he is going to allow himself to love Neville all over again. There has to be one rule. This rule must apply all times.

_No more secrets_.

He still has a lot of questions. More questions than Neville could possibly be ready to answer. But he's determined one thing — he's not going to keep them to himself anymore.   



End file.
